Sanity
by raiaki
Summary: "It was a morbid thought, especially for a five year-old, but when Harry realized he could crack Dudley's new television set clean in half (it took some work) seemingly with nothing more than the power of his mind, his next thought was - I can hurt them like they hurt me."
1. Prologue

At the age of five, Harry decided he'd had enough.

…Fat lot of good that did him. Coming to a decision didn't particularly matter when he didn't have the authority to make any decisions.

Even then, as a toddler, he knew it would be stupid to run away. Not because he was particularly wise. Rather, he had tried it at the age of three, and had come to the unpleasant realization that adults never took kids seriously, regardless of the situation.

And since all the Dursleys (even Dudley, who was surprisingly the same age as Harry) were at least three times his size, there wasn't much he could do against them physically. (Unpleasantly enough, even that realization had come from personal experience).

But at that same age, something amazing had happened. Something crazy. It was nothing short of a miracle, but there was no way in hell Harry was going to question where it came from. He'd take whatever he could get. (Literally, but he preferred not to think about that.)

He found out that he was different from the Dursleys.

Well, yes. Obviously he was different from the Dursleys. To name a few things, Harry wasn't fat, or stupid, or tormenting an innocent kid. But that wasn't it.

No, what he found out was that he was _fundamentally_ different - he could do things that were impossible for them.  
Like make things float just by willing it. Or make them break, or twist, or move.

It was a morbid thought, especially for a five year old, but when Harry realized he could crack Dudley's new television set clean in half (it took some work) seemingly with nothing more than the _power of his mind_ , his next thought was - _I can hurt them like they hurt me._

Because if Harry could tear apart a teddy bear without lifting a finger, why couldn't he do the same to, say, Dudley's arm, before he broke Harry's?

But Harry wasn't stupid. If he'd somehow been granted a miracle, he wasn't complaining. And he was definitely not going to just waste it. That was what Dudley would do, and Harry knew he was nothing like Dudley, the stupid pig.

So he used the time spent locked up in the cupboard under the stairs, where he slept. Used it to flick the lights on and off without moving, to unlock and lock the door. (That took some time, because he had to fiddle around with the stuff inside the lock that he couldn't really see, but it was worth it when he finally managed it.) And he used it to make those stupid spiders scuttling out of the corners implode on themselves, and felt grim satisfaction that now he would no longer have to brush the little buggers off his socks.

Harry probably wouldn't ever admit this out loud, but he used to pretend those spiders were Dudley. Or Uncle Vernon. Or even Dudley's stupid gang, who looked to him as the leader only because he was the biggest and stupidest of the lot. So killing those spiders started to take up a lot of Harry's time, especially during long hours spent locked up alone in the cupboard. Figuring out different ways to get rid of them - there were so many. They could explode, or be ripped apart, or just be crushed, or Harry could even make them disappear entirely. When he stumbled upon that last one he was speechless, because all he could think about was the possibility of perfectly, cleanly, getting rid of Dudley forever. Just one second of making him vanish into thin air. No blood, no fight, no evidence…

One thing he knew, though. It was the only thing that stopped him from actually experimenting on Dudley - if the Dursleys found out he could do this, they'd kill him, in the most literal sense. And even with this newfound power, Harry might not be able to stop them.

…Not to mention that he might go to jail, or worse, end up as a test subject for scientists to poke and prod at. That wouldn't be happening if Harry could help it.

Then there was school. Harry worked his absolute hardest to learn everything he could - not because he really wanted to, but out of pride. He learned early on that getting better grades than Dudley would get him punished and accused of cheating - and needless to say, the oaf didn't get very good grades. Ironically, though, that only fueled Harry's desire to continue to do better. Obviously, the Dursleys wanted him to be even stupider than Dudley. Who was already the stupidest person Harry had ever seen.

If they wanted him to be stupider than Dudley, there was no way he was actually going to let that happen.

In the first few years Harry was in school, he tried various ways to still be able to get better grades than Dudley and get away with it. He tried reporting it to the teacher, the principal, anyone. Nobody believed him. All it took was one word from the Dursleys and he'd be instantly accused of cheating and given a zero on the assignment. They touted him as a problem child, an idiot, a delinquent, so who was the school to contradict that image?

Finally he realized that there was a way to avoid being stupider than Dudley, even if he wasn't allowed to get better grades. Starting in his third year, Harry started to study as hard as he could. He'd study extra compared to what he needed. He'd spend hours after school in the library - the Dursleys could never figure out where he went, because he was careful to slip away before Dudley's gang could see him. He probably wouldn't have been able to pull that off without his special powers, which seemed to conveniently strengthen whenever he was in a pinch.

At first the Dursleys were angry, probably because he was missing out on doing their chores at home, but he told them that he was getting into detentions every day with a teacher who hated him unfairly. They loved that. Uncle Vernon sneered that finally there was someone else who saw what a useless, ungrateful brat Harry was and had decided to help set him straight. Harry just hung his head, but inwardly he was filled with triumph.

When it came time for the exam papers, he would purposely calculate how many questions he had to miss in order to ensure a worse grade than Dudley (who averaged 30 marks on each out of 100). Then he would get exactly that number of answers wrong, while mentally noting the right answers in his head. For assignments, he would make sure he understood them but neglect to turn them in.

Harry had never enjoyed studying in the past, but that was when he didn't understand half of what was going on - the teachers, probably tipped off by the Dursleys, would take any and every opportunity to send him out of the classroom and otherwise prevent him from learning. Now, though, he was starting to realize that this stuff was actually interesting - well, some of it, anyway. History could be interesting, but it seemed like a bit of a waste of time when compared to other things - like science. Discovering science was amazing. Everything that went on in the world could be explained - how living things operated, how objects moved in relation to each other, why the sun rose and set, why water acted the way it did.

It was fascinating…or it would have been, but the fact that Harry's special powers didn't seem to follow any of those rules kind of put a damper on things.

Psychology was pretty interesting too, and after reading some books on it he actually started noticing things about how people behaved that he never had before. Like how the Dursleys were suspiciously jumpy about anything at all out of the ordinary, especially around Harry, and how they always displayed all the signs of lying whenever they had to mention his parents. The former made him suspect that they might know something about his "powers", although he had no way to confirm that, and the latter only made him more sure that his parents didn't die in a car crash, and that they probably hadn't been horrible people either. But again, Harry had no way to find out the truth, since obviously the Dursleys weren't telling.

So during the day he did his best to avoid Dudley's gang and then hid out in the library and studied, and when he got home and was inevitably locked in his cupboard he would sit up and practice manipulating things with his mind.

The school library had a lot of books. Way more than Harry had ever expected. Eventually, he started studying things that were ahead of what they were teaching in class. Soon he was devouring any math or science book he could get his hands on. He spent so much time in there that the librarian was starting to get fond of him.

That should have been a warning sign.

Harry should have known it was too good to last.


	2. Chapter One

Ever since the fateful day when an old wizard had left baby Harry on the front step of Number Four, Privet Drive, not much had changed in the daily lives of its inhabitants. Petunia and Vernon Dursley were still the couple they always had been - well-known enough to be respected by their neighbors, but normal enough to never be the center of any gossip. In fact, not many people even knew that Harry existed, and of those who did, most pitied the Dursleys for having to take care of a delinquent orphan. The boy was supposedly a notorious troublemaker, flunking out of all his classes and only holding back his upstanding cousin, and it was said that he had no appreciation for the Dursleys' generosity in raising him. In fact, according to the rumors, the boy had attempted to run away multiple times. How horrible it must be for poor Petunia Dursley, the neighbors would think, shaking their heads. Taking care of a child like that.

The child in question was currently fast asleep, although any visitor to the house would have a hard time discerning this. A cursory examination of the rooms in the house would yield no evidence that a boy named Harry Potter lived here. But he was indeed present, as he had been for the past ten years. As always, he was awoken this morning by the sharp rap of his aunt's knuckles on the door of his cupboard.

"Wake up, brat!" she ordered shrilly. The voice grated in Harry's ears and he groaned softly, rolling over and trying to block out the noise with his arm. He'd been up late experimenting with his power. Recently, he'd realized that it was possible to actually change one material to another, though it was much more difficult than simply manipulating objects physically in space without changing their form. The fact that it was possible, though...the implications were so fantastic that Harry was having a hard time wrapping his head around them fully. Didn't this mean he was somehow rearranging the atoms in the object telepathically? That was possible? Or was there something else going on here?

"Up!" Aunt Petunia snapped as she paced back towards his cupboard, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "Such a lazy boy...are you awake or not?!"

Harry sighed. The Dursleys never opened the door of his cupboard themselves if they could help it. It seemed as if they wanted to pretend that his room, if it could be called that, didn't exist. He supposed he couldn't blame them in that aspect. It was a pretty dreary place.

"I'm awake," he said shortly. He didn't dare be overly rude to the Dursleys, but that didn't mean he had to pander to them either.

"Hurry it up, then. I want you to look after the bacon so that I can start setting up the presents. And don't you dare let it burn - everything needs to be perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Harry sighed and put his face in his hands as the woman's footsteps receded once more and he heard the sound of her setting plates on the table. Right, Dudley's birthday...how on earth could he have forgotten? Slowly, he sat up and started hunting for clothes.

Although the cupboard wasn't very large, there was still enough space to fit Harry's bed and a small trunk. It was probably meant to be used for storage. He wondered if the builders of this house had ever suspected that it would one day double as a little boy's bedroom.

As he always did, Harry brushed the spiders off his clothes before putting them on; he half-wished he had killed all of them, but it made more sense to keep some alive so he could continue using them as test subjects, and that was enough of a motive for him to deal with them crawling over him at night. At least they weren't poisonous.

Slowly, he knelt to crawl out of the cupboard and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, pausing briefly to glance at himself in the mirror halfway down and attempting to flatten his hair. He was skinny for his age, but not unreasonably so, since he could use his power to unlock the cupboard and sneak himself food even on the nights when he was forbidden meals. At first he'd been afraid that the Dursleys would realize that some of their food was missing the next day, but it turned out that they just assumed one of the others had taken a midnight snack and never bothered to ask. It was quite common for Dudley or Uncle Vernon to come downstairs for a meal late at night, after all, though this also meant that Harry had to be doubly careful when he was out and about at night.

Still, he was always too paranoid to take much food, and even at mealtimes he ate only sparingly since he'd learned he would be scolded otherwise. He wondered if he'd be physically stronger if he was able to eat as much as he wanted, but he supposed that wasn't too important for now. Since he had his power to protect him, physical strength didn't seem like a necessity. He hadn't been hit by Dudley when outside the house for years; his power helped him escape and hide, and once...well, now wasn't the time to think about that incident. ...But it had been pretty gratifying.

He sighed, blinking one last time at his reflection, whose green eyes only stared back through its battered glasses. Dudley's old clothes dwarfed him, and he hated that he had to wear anything that had once belonged to that pig, but...it was okay, he thought to himself as he walked into the kitchen. He only had to bear with this for a few more years. As soon as he came of age, he planned to leave the Dursleys forever.

As he walked towards the stove to tend to the frying bacon, he noticed in disgust that the table was so covered with Dudley's gifts that he could hardly see it. How many had he gotten this time? It looked like there were at least forty packages, which was about normal for Dudley, and some of them were quite large. One seemed like it might be the second television Dudley had been whining for, and a large racing bike complete with huge red ribbon stood in the corner. Another package even seemed like it might be a new computer. Harry tore his gaze away and turned back to the bacon, temporarily blocking out the rest of the room. He wished he could have a new computer - not because he wanted to play games or anything; it would just be so useful. Harry had been introduced to the internet a few years ago through one of the library computers, and had been obsessed with it ever since. Having such a large bank of information at his fingertips was empowering, especially since the Dursleys hated inquisition and rebuffed any and all questions.

"Comb your hair, boy," barked Uncle Vernon as he entered the kitchen, his large face as red as usual. Harry sighed almost inaudibly as he flipped the bacon and started frying some eggs. Uncle Vernon seemed to be obsessed with making Harry's hair appear neat, and because of this Harry had his hair cut at least once a week, sometimes more often. He was currently trying to find a way to use his power to make his hair grow a bit more neatly, if only to stop his uncle being so annoying about it. Once, Aunt Petunia had shaved his hair right off, which had been very annoying and more than a little mortifying, but it had grown back by the next day - thankfully, Harry had managed to use his power to do it. Suspiciously, though they had been angry, the Dursleys hadn't seemed as surprised as would be expected.

He finished frying eggs and starting bringing plates to the table, ignoring Dudley as he fussed over his presents. As usual, he was inspecting to see how many presents he'd gotten, his parents pandering to his every whim. Harry scoffed as he quickly ate his breakfast. He'd learned that it was best to eat as fast as possible, in case anything happened to cut him off, like Dudley stealing his food or flipping the table over.

A few minutes later, the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia hurried to answer it. Her whole body went rigid and Uncle Vernon glanced at her.

"What about Harry?" she said stiffly, and Harry's heart sank so fast that he felt like he'd swallowed it. He could feel his chest fluttering horribly. What could it be? He clenched his fists, waiting to see what Aunt Petunia would say next as his plate lay forgotten on the table.

"...I see. I'll make sure to. Yes, thank you." She hung up the phone and stood perfectly still for some time without turning around. The kitchen was silent. Even Dudley knew better than to say anything.

Finally Uncle Vernon ventured, "P-petunia, dear? What is it?"

She rounded on Harry, eyes flashing. "So _this_ is what you've been up to?!" she spat. "I should have thought something was suspicious when you said you were in detention every night, but never seemed that unhappy about it - _who have you been in contact with_?!"

Harry's thoughts raced. Obviously she'd found out about his trips to the library, but why was she so panicked about it? What on earth did she mean, _who have you been in contact with?_ He had to say something... "I haven't been in con-"

She slapped him, hard. Harry said nothing, staring into the corner dazedly. His face felt like it was on fire. The phone rang again from the counter, but nobody even glanced at it.

"P-petunia -" Uncle Vernon said soothingly, putting a hand on her arm. Usually Uncle Vernon was the one to get angry and lose control, but this time it seemed like they'd switched places. "Dear, what happened, exactly?"

"All this time he's been sneaking off to the library after class instead of detention! He's had use of a computer, for God's sake, what if he - _they_ \- "

Harry was listening intently by now, a slow fury bubbling up inside him. Who was this they didn't want him contacting? He resolved to find out, no matter what. This was getting ridiculous.

"Petunia," said Uncle Vernon slowly, ignoring Harry completely, which was a first. "The boy probably just wanted to avoid chores, how could - it can't be what you're thinking, dear - "

Surprisingly, Aunt Petunia seemed to be calming down, though she still looked shaken. "You're right, of course you're right," she muttered softly. Then she glared at Harry again. "Don't think you're off the hook, boy. I'll deal with you later. And this is your last time in those detentions of yours. You're coming home straight after school from now on."

Harry's heart sank. Great. Now how would he continue to learn things? At least he still had his cupboard to experiment with his power, but...

Suddenly, the doorbell rang, and Aunt Petunia's attention was immediately diverted. "They're here," she said, quickly wiping the anger off her face, and a moment later Dudley's best friend, Piers, had walked in with his mother. Piers was almost as ugly as Dudley, and he was the one who usually immobilized people for Dudley to hit. He sent a nasty sneer at Harry before walking over to Dudley. "Happy Birthday, Big D," he said, and it was all Harry could do not to burst out laughing at the nickname.

"Well, let's get going," Aunt Petunia beamed, smiling at Piers's mother. "We can just drop Harry at Mrs. Figg's house and then be off to the zoo."

"Why not bring Harry along too?" said Piers's mother hesitantly. Aunt Petunia quashed that immediately.

"No, Harry doesn't like being around large groups of people - isn't that right, Harry?" Harry nodded reluctantly, going along with the lie. He did wish he could go to the zoo, though. He'd never been before in his life.

"...Oh. Well, I guess I'll be off, then," said Piers's mother, still looking a bit uneasy. "Happy Birthday, Dudley. I'll be along to pick up Piers at around four."

When they pulled up in front of Mrs. Figg's house a few minutes later (Harry was still unsure about why they insisted on dropping him off each time, when Mrs. Figg was their neighbor), he disembarked from the car reluctantly and started towards the door. At that moment, it creaked open and the old lady limped out of the house, crutches under her arms. Harry stopped as she made her way down the driveway to the Dursleys' car; Uncle Vernon rolled down the window, hiding his annoyance with what he probably thought was a friendly smile.

"What can I do for you, Mrs. Figg?"

"As you can see, I broke my leg," the old woman said irritably, "so I can't look after Harry today. I tried calling earlier, but nobody responded. Anything going on?"

Uncle Vernon exchanged panicked glances with Aunt Petunia, even as Harry's heart leapt at the idea of not having to spend the day in Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling house. "No, nothing," said Uncle Vernon finally. "Sorry about that, Mrs. Figg. I suppose Harry will just have to come along with us."

" _What?_ " hissed Aunt Petunia, as Mrs. Figg limped towards her car. Harry got back in, feeling oddly happy despite the whispered argument from the front seats. He hadn't thought going along to the zoo would make him this excited, but...it made him feel semi-normal for once. Maybe he could even escape the Dursleys for a while and explore on his own. He listened patiently as Uncle Vernon turned around and warned him against any "funny business". Yeah, right...if he got the opportunity to experiment with his power discreetly, he would. What could his uncle possibly do about it?

Harry hardly heard anything the others said as they drove. There was excitement bubbling up inside him. For the first time ever, he'd be able to do something fun - something other than evading Dudley's gang at school or getting locked in his cupboard at home. Even the prospect of not being able to spend any more time in the library couldn't entirely dampen his good spirits.

 _You can't keep me from what I want forever,_ he thought venomously.

When he was old enough to do as he pleased, he would make sure that the Dursleys paid dearly for all they had done to him.

* * *

The zoo was absolutely packed, and Harry's excitement slightly tempered by the fact that people kept staring oddly at his baggy clothes, taped glasses and messy hair. Still, even that couldn't actually mess up his good mood. This was the first time in years he'd been anywhere but school and home and Mrs. Figg's house, and he intended to relish the moment. And, if possible, make this a trip to remember.

He kept a certain distance from the Dursleys, both because he didn't particularly want to be near them and because they'd probably appreciate not being associated with him. He'd considered asking Uncle Vernon whether he could explore on his own, but he doubted his uncle would ever give Harry something he wanted even if Vernon himself also wanted Harry gone. So he tagged along with them, lagging behind, and they hardly glanced at him. Maybe they were actually hoping he got lost or killed or something, not that he would when he had his power to protect him.

When they sat at a table in a restaurant for lunch - quite early in the trip, they'd gotten to see practically nothing yet, but _Dinky Diddidums was hungry_ \- Harry just sat there and watched the cogs turn in Uncle Vernon's mind. He didn't want to buy food for Harry, but Harry was already attracting enough attention as it was and was sitting at their table. People would talk if it seemed like he wasn't given any food while everyone else was. Finally, his uncle ordered the smallest burger and a kid-sized drink for Harry. Inwardly, Harry was smirking, but he accepted the option without a word, and then surreptitiously used his power to gently nudge Dudley's drink all over his clothes and his food, and watched the chaos unfold.

Once they were finally out of the restaurant, they visited several exhibits. Harry was most interested in the big cats. And the sharks. And the bears. And the monkeys. And the snakes...well, okay, just about everything. Dudley kept scaring the animals away like the brain-dead idiot he was, though, doing stuff like walking up and pounding on the glass even when they were actually in view. Harry didn't think it was wise to use his power on Dudley again, unfortunately; the Dursleys had chalked up the first time to coincidence, but if odd things kept happening there was nobody they'd blame but Harry.

When they reached the reptile house, it was cool and dark, and surprisingly not very crowded. This meant that Harry could actually walk a good distance away from the Dursleys and still be able to see them, and they him; he immediately took the chance to not be at the same exhibit as Dudley was. As he looked at the snakes, he mused about how graceful they were, how mesmerizing their movement. He knew that many people were disgusted by snakes, and hated the way they slithered without legs, but Harry couldn't understand that. There was just something so awesome about them, and about the fact that the large python now in front of him could easily squeeze Harry to death in a heartbeat for some reason was more fascinating than scary. He glanced at the information card next to the tank and read - _Reticulated Python. The longest snake in the world._ He turned back to the snake in awe and muttered. "Wow. It must cramped in that tank, huh?"

To his surprise, the snake, which had previously been lying lazily across the tank with its head out of sight, suddenly snapped to attention. Beady eyes swiveled back and forth and finally focused on Harry; then it stuck out its tongue and Harry knew it must be hissing, though it was impossible to hear through the thick glass. "Woah, did I say something wrong?" Harry asked in surprise. It was a rhetorical question, of course, so he was doubly shocked when the python appeared to study him for a moment before, very distinctly, nodding its head up and down. Harry leaned closer, cautiously, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

"Can you understand me?" he whispered. The snake nodded emphatically, slithering closer to Harry and facing its body towards him. Harry could feel excitement bubbling up inside him. If he were anyone else, he would probably have concluded that this was a dream or hallucination. As it was, he wondered whether it had something to do with his power.

"Wow. Um. How come?"

The snake turned its head slightly and seemed to shrug, its long coils rippling. It hissed again and Harry sighed. "I can't hear you," he explained. "The glass is too thick." The snake seemed to understand. An idea occurred to him. "Hey, I'm guessing you don't really like being in there, am I right?"

The snake nodded again, quickly. Harry grinned. "If I were to let you out? You wouldn't hurt me, would you?" The snake shook its head quickly. Harry wondered if he was imagining the excited gleam in its eyes.

"I can let you out, then," Harry said quietly, glancing around again to make sure nobody was paying any attention to him. "But I can't guarantee what happens afterward. And could you do me a favor?"

The snake looked at him in what Harry felt was a quizzical manner. Harry jerked his head in the direction of Dudley. "Give that fat kid over there a good scare for me," he grinned. "You can maim him if you want, just don't kill him, all right? That might cause too much trouble." The snake opened its mouth slightly, tilting its head, and Harry had the oddest feeling that it was laughing. It nodded in assent.

Harry focused his attention on the glass, concentrating. There were two options he could see, break it or make it disappear - the second option seemed less dangerous, but it would also be more difficult to pull off. He'd never made anything this large disappear before. But if he broke it, somebody might accuse him of physically breaking the glass, and it would probably set off alarms...yes, making it disappear was the only option. He put one hand on the glass to make things easier and focused on pushing it inwards with his power, willing the thick sheet into sheer nothingness, to not exist, to enter the void between dimensions. It was an odd way of thinking, yeah, but he'd found it to work like a charm on Dudley's toys and homework. After so much practice, he could actually feel his power leaving him, its warmth flooding through his arm and into the glass, and felt a trickle of sweat down the back of his neck, fighting to maintain the flow. This was definitely more difficult than making spiders disappear. Finally, when Harry was just starting to think he wouldn't be able to, the glass gave, and was gone in a split second. He fell forward, bracing his hands on the floor of the huge snake's tank, and yet he felt no fear. The python was uncoiling, with a great speed Harry had thought impossible for such a huge body, and it hissed at him.

 _"Thankssss,"_ it said, and Harry felt his breath catch with the shock of understanding its sibilant voice. _"I recommend you talk to any snakes you find," it continued. "Ssome of our smaller brothersss may be willing to help you out more. For my part I would be too noticsssable. Sssseee you later, friend."_ It slithered down the side lightning fast and started to make its way across the floor, making a beeline towards Dudley, and Harry felt a leap of mingled apprehension and excitement.

There were a screams as the scattering of people in the exhibit realized something was amiss. Even Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia turned, glancing around to locate the problem, but Dudley, the stupid idiot, didn't seem to notice. He continued to pound angrily on the glass of a Brazilian Boa Constrictor, which was pointedly ignoring him. Harry grinned ferally as the python slithered towards his cousin, then quickly masked his expression. It wouldn't do to have Uncle Vernon notice and draw any conclusions.

Aunt Petunia, who had finally realized just what was going on, screamed loudly and grabbed Dudley's arm to pull him away, but her son proved too heavy for her to budge and the snake coiled a fraction of its body easily around Dudley's ankle. There was a sickening crack and Dudley, noticing for the first time that there was anything amiss, yelled loudly. Harry felt a vindictive surge of pleasure inside himself that surprised even him, and the scar on his temple burned red-hot for a split second. The feeling drained away, but it left him feeling exhilarated and powerful. He coughed loudly into his fist to keep from laughing.

The snake, having accomplished its task, melted away effortlessly into the darkness of the reptile house, leaving a screaming Dudley, tearful Aunt Petunia, and purple-faced Uncle Vernon in its wake.


	3. Chapter Two

By the time Harry was let out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had increased even more in size due to his broken leg and ankle. Apparently, the caution Harry had taken in pulling his stunt with the snake had been unnecessary; the Dursleys had somehow assumed it was him anyway.

It had been worth it.

They'd tried to feed him only chicken broth while he was locked in his cupboard, but Harry wasn't having that - he snuck out every chance he got to get real food. He'd discovered several weeks ago that if he concentrated enough, he could use his power to alert him when anyone passed by a certain threshold (read: the stairs). That helped _a lot_ in not getting caught, and for ensuring his peace of mind. He hadn't been looking forward to being beaten half to death when the Dursleys found out he'd been eating.

Back to the snake, though - how _had_ that happened, anyway? For a few days after the incident, Harry had been elated, thinking that perhaps his power gave him the ability to speak to animals. But after racing outside the moment he got out of his cupboard to try it out on every errant bird and squirrel he came across (and looking like a bit of an idiot in the process to any passersby) he'd had to admit that this probably wasn't the case. But then why had it worked with the snake? He kept having a sneaking feeling that it had been all a dream, and had to remind himself that, no, Dudley's injury was solid proof.

At any rate, he felt a bit uneasy about it now. What if that had been a one-time thing? Maybe that particular snake had been somehow _special_?

But - what had the snake said? Something about talking to any snakes he found. So the snake, at least, had thought Harry would be able to do this again...

That decided it. He needed to find another snake.

Easier said than done.

Somehow, now that Harry actually _wanted_ to find snakes, they were nowhere to be seen. And the Dursleys didn't exactly let him wander the town at night, which was when snakes were more likely to show up. Maybe he would actually have to _sneak out_ to look for snakes. But that would be risky and less urgent than the food situation and Harry wasn't really sure he wanted to do that.

So he spent an uneasy few weeks, keeping his eyes open for snakes and just _wondering_.

And then _that day_ came.

It was a perfectly normal Sunday. Dudley looked like even more of an idiot than usual, wearing his new school uniform, but his enthusiasm was obviously tempered by the fact that he couldn't walk. And Aunt Petunia appeared to be preparing bits of elephant skin for Harry to wear to _his_ new school - Harry was looking forward to destroying those. Maybe he'd see how well his power worked for incineration.

Before he could fantasize too much about that, though, there came the rap of the postman's knuckles on the door. Uncle Vernon barked out for Harry to get the mail, and he stood up reluctantly to do so. He knew better than to argue, what with the mood the Dursleys were in lately. They were convinced that Harry had set the snake on Dudley with a certainty that might have been creepy if Harry hadn't known by now that they always blamed him for everything, whether it made sense or not.

As he opened the front door and knelt resignedly to scoop up the letters, a faint hiss made him pause and look around quickly. Nobody in sight. But as soon as he made to get back to his feet, he heard it again.

 _"You are one of uss,"_ came the voice. Harry could feel his heart beating furiously somewhere in his throat, but he managed to swallow it down. He looked quickly over his shoulder to make sure none of the Dursleys had stepped into the hall.

"Where are you?" he whispered, glancing around his feet. After a moment he saw it - the slithering movement of a black snake, practically blending in with the dark soil. It drew itself up after a few seconds, blinking at him with beady eyes.

" _You are sscertainly a powerful wizard child,_ " it hissed appreciatively, swaying back and forth. Harry blinked.

"What? What did you just call me?"

The snake made a hissing laugh that was somehow contagious - Harry found himself smiling slightly back, which was more than a little weird. " _You are not aware of what you are? How amusssing. Well, I am sssure you will get the chancsse to do more with your power sssoon. Sso what will you do, hatchling?"_

"I'll take that chance, of course," Harry said fiercely. He didn't even have to think about it. The snake hissed appreciatively.

" _I like you, boy. You know what, I think I will sstick around."_

"Eh?" Before Harry could protest, the snake slithered forward and up Harry's leg, making him cover his mouth to keep back his automatic yelp. The sensation was strange, and only his prior conversation with the creature kept him from trying to fight it off. "Wait, why?"

The snake, which had now curled around his chest under his shirt, made the laughing sound again. " _An animal benefitss from a wizard's magic just asss the wizard benefitsss from hiss familiar. Ssilly child."_

"O-oh," said Harry, even if he still didn't quite get it. Bemused, he knelt down again to scoop up the letters. The movement was made awkward by the snake curled around him and one letter fluttered out of his grasp down onto the ground. Its thick parchment and green ink caught his eye as he made to pick it up, and then his heart stuttered erratically as he took in the lettering.

The letter was addressed to _him._

Not only to him, it was addressed _to his cupboard_.

Harry snatched the letter up immediately and then gulped, glancing back into the hallway again. At the exact same moment, he heard Uncle Vernon's irritated voice. "What's taking so long, boy?"

"Coming!" he called back hurriedly, stuffing the letter into his shirt. The snake slithered over it obligingly, holding it in place, and Harry glanced down at himself, trying to judge whether he looked weird. Thankfully his shirt was baggy enough that the Dursleys probably wouldn't notice much difference, and the snake had distributed itself pretty evenly. Taking a deep breath to steady his heart, which was beating like a drum, Harry tucked the rest of the letters under his arm and retreated back through the doorway, shutting the door.

Uncle Vernon barely glanced at him when he handed the letters over, except for a brief glare. "Took long enough," he grumbled, slitting open the first letter. Harry gobbled down his toast and made to get up. Aunt Petunia gave him a disparaging look.

"No manners," she sniffed. "Always scarfing down your food like you're half-starved. Do we starve you?"

"No," Harry said, managing with a great deal of effort to keep any sarcasm out of his tone. "Of course not."

Petunia looked unconvinced, but she turned up her nose and allowed him to leave the table. Behind him, Harry could hear Uncle Vernon saying something about Aunt Marge, but he could hardly care - he just wanted to get into his cupboard as soon as he could. A few seconds later he was inside sitting on his makeshift bed, the door locked from the outside so he'd get some warning if one of them tried to open it. He could just pretend he'd locked it by accident - the Dursleys already thought he was stupid, so they'd believe it.

" _Ah, what an interessting piece of coressspondence,"_ the snake hissed, uncurling from around Harry and slithering down onto his bed.

"Do you have a name?" Harry asked.

" _No,"_ the snake said. It swung its head around slightly. " _Are thesse your living quarterss? They sseem rather ssmall."_

"You're a male snake, right?"

The snake turned to blink at him again, looking unimpressed. " _Yess._ "

"Okay, I'm calling you Sparky."

An angry-sounding hiss. " _No. What kind of name isss that? I refusse."_

"Ben?"

" _How mundane. Ssingle ssyllable names are sso -_ "

"Uh…Sen?" Harry suggested, changing just one letter.

The snake seemed to consider. " _I…ssuppose that ssoundss acceptable,"_ he said grudgingly. Harry grinned.

"Okay, Sen, let's open this letter!"

He got the sense that Sen was rolling his eyes. " _Jusst get on with it, child."_

Harry looked carefully at the envelope. When he'd first looked at it he'd thought he might burst from anticipation, imagining himself ripping it open right then and there. But now he was a bit apprehensive. Who could such a letter be from? Did they _know_ he lived in a cupboard? And if so, why hadn't they contacted him before? And why a letter?

Sen's tail flicked impatiently against his arm as he gave an impatient hiss. Harry could take a hint. He took a deep breath and then carefully pried the letter open, not wanting to rip it. He pulled out several sheaths of parchment and read through with bated breath, his eyes going wider and wider as he continued.

"This is a joke," he said flatly, after he'd finished reading.

" _Well?_ " Sen hissed impatiently. " _What doesss it ssay?"_

"Something about my being the savior of the whole world, and the amalgamation of a magical dark lord and a baby. Oh, and apparently I spoke words mere seconds after being born." He glanced up at Sen, who had gone slack-jawed.

" _What?"_ he hissed, after a few frozen seconds. Harry shrugged and offered Sen the parchment.

"You read it yourself."

" _I cannot understand human-sspeak, sstupid boy,"_ Sen snapped.

"Oh. Wait, how exactly is it you can understand me, again?"

" _You are ssspeaking the language of the ssnakes, of coursse,"_ Sen said irritably. " _How one with ssuch power can be ssso dull-witted, I have no idea."_

"I - I am?!" Harry exclaimed. He frowned. "It - it feels like I'm speaking plain…" He trailed off in wonder. Now that Sen mentioned it, it was like he was hearing his own words differently. No, he _wasn't_ speaking plain English. He was _hissing_.

Harry sat for a few moments in stunned silence.

" _Do you undersstand now, hatchling?"_ Sen asked after a couple of seconds, swaying back and forth slightly.

" _I'm sseriously quesstioning my life right now_ ," Harry said weakly. No — hissed.

Sen laughed at him. " _Foolissh hatchling. You are young. Now tell me what the letter really said."_

Harry rolled his eyes. " _I wass telling the truth, Ssen."_

" _You are world'ss ssavior?"_ Sen said incredulously. " _A mixss of dark lord and baby? No. Ssomeone went to the trouble of ssending you a letter for such sstupid lies?_ "

He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Seriously." When he purposely didn't concentrate much on it, he could manage to hear himself as speaking just plain English again.

Dudley's loud, obnoxious voice sounded from the living room. "Wait, but why is it addressed to _Harry_?"

"Give it to me, boy!" Uncle Vernon boomed. Harry froze where he sat.

No. Way.

" _What isss it?"_ Sen was hissing, but Harry didn't have time to respond. He was already bolting out the door, racing back to where the Dursleys were sitting. He got there just in time to see Uncle Vernon snatch from Dudley a thick letter - a letter which also had clearly written on it, in green ink, _Harry Potter_.

A surge of fury flooded him, both at the Dursleys and at himself for being so stupid, and before he could think about his actions at all, Harry had summoned the letter to himself automatically. It zoomed straight out of Uncle Vernon's hand and into Harry's grasp. The Dursleys stared at him in shock, but Harry was already opening the letter and pulling out the thick sheets within.

While Harry was unfolding the parchment, Uncle Vernon seemed to find his voice again. "Give that back here!" he roared, shooting to his feet like someone had kindled a fire directly under his chair. "And stop with that unnatural nonsense!"

Dudley made a move towards Harry, but Harry snapped without even looking at him, " _Stay back._ " He purposely infused the words with a tinge of power and Dudley froze where he stood, trembling slightly. Uncle Vernon was saying something else, looking beside himself with fury, but Harry was too busy taking in the contents of the letter to care.

This one almost seemed as ridiculous as the other one at first glance, but…

He _did_ have a mysterious power…

Things all seemed to be coming together. And the sender had a certain amount of credibility, if they'd been able to find out where he lived. This was worth a try, at least. But the letter was quite cryptic - Diagon Alley? Where was that? Whoever had written it seemed to think Harry was already familiar with all this witchcraft and wizardry business.

Harry realized too late that it had been unbelievably stupid of him to get so distracted. In the few seconds he'd been staring in shock, Uncle Vernon had regained his mobility and shoved Harry roughly to the ground, grabbing the letter from him. Harry's glasses were knocked to the floor in the process, and by the time he'd managed to get them back on again, he only just managed to see as his uncle threw the letter into the fireplace. Harry gave a yelp of dismay, scrambling over to it despite his newly scraped knee, but he was too late; the letter was already blackened beyond recognition, curling into a ball of ash.

With it went any chance he had to figure out anything about his power. He couldn't even remember what the sender's name had been.

Harry could have screamed, but he found he was too furious to even make a sound. Somehow, he managed to get to his feet and turn around to face the Dursleys again - they were babbling, Uncle Vernon screaming angrily, Aunt Petunia trying to get in comments in her shrill voice, and Dudley, having recovered from his earlier fright, demanding loudly to know what had been in the letter.

Then all three of them were staring at him, suddenly silent. Harry registered dimly that the air was thrumming with power, random objects swirling into the air, dancing, smashing against the walls. Where he often felt warm when filled with his power, now it was cold instead, thrusting everything into sharp clarity, almost in slow motion. He didn't feel any less drunk on it, though. He faced his purple-faced uncle squarely, feeling nothing but anger and superiority and the desire to _do_ something - to -

His hearing kicked back in at the same moment that Vernon lunged at him, his expression insane, screaming - "Only death'll cure you … same as your no-good parents - " and Harry could hardly even take in Aunt Petunia moving too, screaming ineffectually at her husband to stop, because then Uncle Vernon's fat fingers had closed around Harry's throat, tight, tighter, strangling him -

And Harry saw red.


End file.
